


Summer

by Problem_Seeker



Series: Book's Adventures in Elsewhere [4]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Conversation, Elsewhere University weirdness, Flirting, Gen, I haven't figured out the balance between good tags and snarky comments yet, Ominous Warnings, Tea, Vignettes, campus bar, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-03-21 11:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Problem_Seeker/pseuds/Problem_Seeker
Summary: A collection of vignettes about Book's summertime adventures at Elsewhere University. Specifically, the summer before her first teaching assignment.Updated sporadically. Tags updated with each new vignette.





	1. Tenure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else might enjoy the freedom that summer brings, but Book has things to do. Like sign her True Name on employment paperwork in the presence of the Administrators who dwell behind the iron door.
> 
> Takes place after Chapter Five of Book and the Wyrm (but before the epilogue, because I didn't plan on writing this originally and at some point I'll have to sort out the timeline properly).

###  ****

Tenure

The remainder of my time as a student of the University proceeded without incident. Paperwork was stamped and accepted without complaint, my thesis collected with nary a fuss, and soon I had a piece of paper telling me I was officially graduating on time. I skipped the graduation ceremony, partially because my parents weren't going to be able to make it and partially because I didn't want to spend several hours being bored out of my mind. So instead I started packing up the home I'd been living in for seven years in preparation for my next move.

It was quiet, mindless work for the most part. But a week after my deal with the Lord of Moss and Shadow, I received a note in my mailbox: "First Tuesday of Summer, 3pm. Third floor of the Administration Building. Don't be late." It was stamped with the school seal, but otherwise unsigned.

I didn't have to wonder what it was for. It was time to sign my hiring paperwork.

***

Conveniently located in the middle of campus, the Administration Building housed things like Student Services, the Financial Aid Office, and the Academic Resources Department. During the term, the building was full of of students; there were always people trying to sort out academic errors and problems with their bills. But during the summer, the building was all but deserted. My footsteps echoed in the halls (how, when the floors were carpeted?) and I tried not to look at the shadows too closely. As far as I could tell, I was the only one here.

Summers at Elsewhere University are different than summers out in the real world. With most students gone, the Gentry became both calmer and more aggressive. Calmer, because there was no point in pursuing the favortrade when there were so few customers; and more aggressive because if a summer student was stupid enough to make a deal, no Gentry was going to release that limited resource. So maybe initially they would leave you alone, but if you attracted attention...

One of the shadows flitted around a corner and I was careful not to let my eyes follow it. Since my deal with Between — or rather, the Lord of Moss and Shadow — I had noticed more of the Gentry's activity. I'd developed a permanent case of the Sight since my hair turned silver, and I theorized that the people with silver eyes had something similar going on. But Seeing the Gentry is something you're expressly told to avoid at Elsewhere, so I was careful to keep my face neutral and not let my eyes linger anywhere too long.

Not that the Gentry didn't know I could see them, of course. But they respect the adherence to rules.

I decided against taking the elevator up to the third floor (I'd heard, once, of a student who used it on a dare. She came back twenty years older and missing a tongue). Instead, I relied on the rowan in my shoes to keep me safe on the stairs. Each step I took made a loud noise, but at least these stairs were uncarpeted and thus the noise expected. I made sure my iron rings were secure on my fingers before I risked touching the handrail, too. Paranoia, after all, had kept me safe before.

The first two floors of the Administration Building had everything the students would need. The third, however, was strictly off-limits to everyone but faculty. Rumors swirled about what was actually up there, but there was no general consensus as to what Administration wanted to keep students away from. Some claimed there were Gentry hostages, others said that's where Names were kept, still others insisted it was just full of sensitive materials that couldn't be shared. All I knew for sure was that I'd never known anyone who tried to get up there, and it felt wrong for me to be going there myself. And when I saw the door at the top of the staircase, I was even more sure that this was a bad idea.

It was made of iron, the oldest iron I'd seen on campus. Every inch of it was covered in strange markings and drawings and wide looping scripts. Some I recognized as protection spells and wards. Others were as baffling to me as foreign alphabets written backwards and upside-down. The spells branched out from the door onto the surrounding wall, presenting a solid slab of protection that would have sent any Gentry in the area screaming.

There was no handle, but there was a heavy iron knocker shaped like a dangling hand holding something in its fingers. Setting aside the irrational urge that the knocker would come to life and grab my own hand, I lifted the knocker and rapped three times against the door. A sound like an old church bell rang though the stairwell and reverberated somewhere inside my chest. The notes hung in the air even after I released the knocker and dropped my hands to my sides.

A moment later, I heard metal sliding against metal (a slide-lock on the door, perhaps?) and the door opened. On the other side was a man seemingly in his seventies, holding an iron walking stick and peering at me suspiciously. "You are?" he asked, voice clear as glass.

"I'm known as Book," I said. "I was told to come here today at three."

"You bring the summons with you?"

I pulled the note out of my bag, thankful I hadn't left it behind, and handed it to the man. When he took it from me, I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch as if he were fighting a smile. "Good," he said. "One more thing. You, who wish to enter this place, do you come with weapons sheathed and passions checked? No ill words on your tongue, and no lies between your teeth? No thoughts of conquest, no attempts at theft? Will you, if you enter, abide by laws of the Third Floor?"

I recognized a binding promise when I heard one, and straightened my back. "I carry salt and rowan and iron, but bring them not for war. My tongue is prepared to speak truths and courtesies. And as I do not know what the Third Floor contains, I can have no thoughts of conquest or theft. I will abide by its rules, within reason."

Now the man openly smiled. "Well-answered," he said. "Come in. Mind the salt on the threshold."

I stepped carefully over the line of salt and waited while the man closed the door and put the locks in place. "Your patience is appreciated," he told me. "Lots of new folks get testy about the pomp and circumstance. But I suppose you wouldn't be, would you?"

"If there's an iron door and a binding promise just to get in, I assume there's a reason," I replied. "I've seen enough of this campus to know this sort of thing isn't done lightly."

"True enough." The final lock — there must have been at least nine — slid back in place. "Well, let's get you to your meeting. Step quick. The longer you're up here, the more the Neighbors start to take notice."

I had to walk fast to keep up with him. "Now, let's fill you in on the details, shall we?" he said. "Chances are you'll never need to be up here again after today, but in case you do, you'll see me first. I'm the Doorman, and my entire job is to keep Gentry off this floor. You don't pass the test at the door, you don't get in. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, if you're summoned here, it's for a good reason, so don't go ignoring the summons. Today you're signing your hiring paperwork, which requires a lot of real-life information that we don't want Gentry eyes seeing. The door is only the first of the protections in place up here, so you don't need to be worried that anyone will get a hold of anything important. The room you'll be in is warded with just about every protection spell and superstition known to human or Gentrykind. There is no way anything you say or do here is going to be compromised, understand?"

The smell of iron was heavy here, so I knew he wasn't exaggerating. "Understood," I said.

"You're going to be meeting with two people for your paperwork," he said. "Both human. Neither leaves this floor, so there's no risk of them getting kidnapped and forced to tell what they know. They'll go over some of the details of your employment, and then you'll sign things. They'll witness your signature, then your paperwork gets safely sealed up and warded and sent to the Keeper of the Names. And that's the last time you'll need to put your True Name down anywhere on this campus."

I sucked in my breath. Logically, of course they would need my real Name for employment paperwork. But the reality of having to write it down now was enough to twist my stomach in knots. Yes, it would be guarded and protected here, but it still meant surrendering it for safekeeping. I'd spent eleven years keeping that Name out of my mouth; I hated the thought of turning it over now.

The Doorman glanced at me. "Having seconds thoughts?" he asked. "Lots do. Could always turn down the position and leave. No one's going to twist your arm to get you to stay."

I shook my head. "I made promises," I said. "I'm going to see them through."

We reached a door — this one of unadorned, ordinary wood — and the Doorman rapped on it with his knuckles. "Well, good luck," he told me. "See you when you're finished."

The wooden door opened and the Doorman shooed me inside. The click of the door closing behind me was somehow more ominous than the iron door had been.

Inside the room was a table big enough for three people. There were two women seated already, but they rose when they noticed my arrival. One, an older black woman with silver hair and eyes, smiled as she shook my hand. The other, a serious-faced woman with light brown skin and silver eyes, offered only a curt nod.

"Welcome, Book," the smiling woman said. "Your promptness and adherence to the rules is appreciated. We'll not waste your time in turn."

The serious woman gestured for me to sit and slid a sheaf of papers towards me. "This is your paperwork," she said. "All the details worked out with your...patron...are copied in full here. You'll get copies of what's safe for you to take, such as the salary and vacation policy. Look over everything at least twice before signing to confirm that everything is exactly what you were promised."

I looked over the list of promises: teacher of English, salary, vacation, shall not be Taken, readings...

When I'd confirmed everything was exactly what Between had negotiated for me, I looked up. "The only thing I notice is that my employment doesn't have an end date," I said.

The smiling woman nodded. "Pretty standard for new hires," she said. "Especially ones with your circumstances. Ideally, we'll have you for twenty-five years, as that was the time you originally negotiated for. But..."

"But we have trouble keeping the new ones," the serious woman interjected. "Many new teachers get the idea they're invincible, or beyond the scope of our Neighbors' reach. Some burn out, some do things to get themselves removed. You would have been a safe hire, as your caution during your time as a student spoke to a level-headed nature that would have been an asset. Your stunt with the Wyrm, and the subsequent deals with the Gentry and their intercessor, have made us a little more cautious."

I wanted to argue with them, but I'd promised to come in without war or ill words on my tongue, so I settled for pressing my lips together and taking a breath through my nose. When I managed to calm down, I asked, "But I do have a job here?"

"Yes, of course," the serious woman replied. "You made a deal, and we will honor that. And there is no doubt that you have things to teach the student body."

"Your Department Chair will be in touch with you within the next two weeks," interjected the smiling woman. "You'll get your sections assigned and your schedule worked out. Your faculty housing will be ready by Friday and you'll be able to move in. Despite the unusual circumstances of your hiring, I think you'll find the entire process rather uneventful. Now I would suggest reading through the rest of your contract and, when you're ready, we'll witness your signature."

It seemed to be a gentle admonishment to do what I came here to do, so I picked up the papers and began reading. Page after dull page of legalese, regulations, and expectations made my eyes water, but I knew it was all too important to read carelessly. Unlike Gentry contracts, there didn't seem to be anything hidden in tricky language. Still, it was a slog to get through it all.

I don't know how long it took me to read everything, but my eyes were burning when I finally set everything down. "Okay," I said. "I'm satisfied."

The serious woman handed me a pen and a Post-it note. "We'll need your full True Name," she said. "Cover it up with the Post-it when you're done signing. We don't need to see the Name, just witness that you signed."

After so many years of using a false name, it took me a moment to remember how to sign my real one. I did it quickly, as if the letters would burn me, and slapped the Post-it over them before I could think too much about it. Then, one by one, the other two women signed the available spaces and covered their own names. The serious woman folded the stack in three and slipped it into an envelope, which she sealed with wax and placed into an iron box at her elbow.

"Congratulations," she said. "You're now officially an employee of Elsewhere University."

She and the smiling woman stood up and I followed suit. This time, however, the serious woman was the one to shake my hand. "Your employment won't be easy," she said, almost regretfully. "But I hope it's what you're looking for."

"Me, too," I replied.

"Goodbye, Book," the smiling woman said. "We won't meet again."

And with that I was ushered out the wooden door.

***

I can't tell you what other pleasantries the Doorman and I might have exchanged, or how I found myself leaving the Administration Building behind me. By the time I really came back to myself I was sitting at a table in the quad, feeling for all the world like I'd just chained myself to a stone and jumped into a river. I'd made the commitment now, and there was nothing else to do.

My phone buzzed in my pocket — the alarm was going off. "Books for the Wyrm," it said.

I sighed and stood up, gathering my bag to me. The first delivery of my tenure at Elsewhere University was due, and it wouldn't do to disappoint the Wyrm on the first week.

After all, I had 1300 more weeks to go.

End


	2. Special Cases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Book receives a mysterious invitation to join the "Special Cases." Who's behind it, and what do they want?

### 

**Special Cases**

There are lots of things I expected to encounter once I was officially a teacher at Elsewhere University. Staff meetings. Bureaucratic red tape. Students who liked to push their luck. A thick piece of iron engraved with a personalized message, chucked solidly at my front door while I was in the kitchen making lunch, was not one of my anticipated problems.

And yet...

Like anyone else without a self-preservation instinct, I decided to investigate the loud _thump_ that came from my front door instead of waiting quietly to see what was happening. I maneuvered around all the moving boxes — I was still waiting to hear where my faculty housing was — so I could get to the door. A quick glance outside showed me no one was immediately visible, so I risked opening it. On my doorstep was an iron plaque about the size and thickness of a stack of postcards. There was also a very obvious divot in the wood of my front door, which is how I figured out the plaque was thrown instead of dropped.

 _I had better not be billed for that,_ I thought even as I retrieved the plaque from the step. _I worked hard to keep this place spotless._

There were lines etched into the surface of the metal, but they were too faint to make out with the naked eye. Figuring it couldn't be Gentry-created if it was made of iron, I took another risk and decided to bring the plaque into the house. My best bet at discovering who left it would be to try to find out what was written on it, so I fetched a piece of plain white paper and a regular graphite pencil. Within moments I had a crude rubbing of the words there.

The message was almost as puzzling as the delivery method: _"Book: you are cordially invited to meet with Dr. Candle in the Chemistry Department at your earliest convenience. It seems like you would be a good fit for the Special Cases."_

There was no signature and no other information, though I scoured the entire plaque for further writing. I'd never heard of the Special Cases — or a Dr. Candle in the Chemistry Department — but there had been a lot on campus I'd missed over the years. It wasn't impossible that I'd missed even more than I knew.

 _Earliest convenience, huh?_ I thought. _It'd be pretty convenient now._

Because when push comes to shove, I have a problem knowing when to leave well enough alone.

***

The Chemistry Department was surprisingly friendly to a stranger coming to inquire about one of their own. Then again, if I were surrounded by as many Gentry-toxic materials as they were and had already won a war with the Good Neighbors already, maybe I would be nonchalant about a human coming to see me, too. In any case, they told me that Dr. Candle was teaching a summer course, and if I hurried to the classroom I could catch him just as the class was ending for the day. I managed to thank them without actually saying the words and departed for the classroom as soon as I could.

My timing was good, as a handful of students began to emerge from the room as I approached. A few gave me curious looks as I walked closer — my silver hair was drawing more attention amongst students than it was with faculty — but none of them tried to engage me in conversation. I had the sneaking suspicion that I was not the first odd-looking person to show up at this classroom.

I waited for the waves of students to pass before I slipped through the door quietly. Inside, a skinny, middle-aged man was speaking to one of the students. He had a floppy mop of red hair cut in a style too youthful for his age, and no facial hair to speak of. Though his clothes — a pair of blue jeans and a collared shirt — were clean, they were also well-worn. I saw the horn-rimmed glasses on his nose had no glass in the lenses despite the fact he removed and polished them as if they did. Despite the strangeness of his mannerisms, he certainly didn't look more out of place than anyone else I'd encountered at Elsewhere.

And if I hadn't gained the Sight a few weeks before, I wouldn't have seen the other form hiding behind the man.

Beneath the facade of the harmless professor was something else. Humanoid in appearance, it otherwise looked like a log burning from within, full of embers and fire and ash. It was a warm, cozy sort of flame — the kind that invited you to sit next to it with a cup of something hot and a good book. And even when his face turned to mine and he must have known that I Saw him, still he smiled.

I blinked and the man was back. But there was no denying that he was Gentry underneath.

In the time I'd been staring, Dr. Candle's student had left and we were alone in his classroom. I had a brief internal debate whether I should make an excuse to leave, or if I should see my decision to talk to him through. Unsurprisingly, my desire for answers won out over my caution. I straightened my shoulders and tried to look confident.

Before I could introduce myself or explain why I was there, Dr. Candle approached me with a smile. "I believe you've set a record," he said. His voice was a pleasant tenor. "Most invitees take a few days to come and see me."

If he was going to be friendly, I could be, too. "Well, I've recently discovered a chronic inability to resist the call to adventure," I replied. "And I wanted to see who dented my front door."

He grimaced and actually blushed. "Sometimes I forget my own strength," he said. "I threw it on my way to the classroom and perhaps chucked it harder than necessary. I'll inform the groundskeepers it was my fault. I would hate for you to come to grief for it."

There was a momentary lull in our conversation before he remembered himself. "Ach, my manners," he said. "My mother would be appalled. Dr. Candle, at your service."

His hand came out for a handshake. My own hand was halfway out before I remembered the iron rings on my fingers and I paused. "I imagine," I said hesitantly, "that burning you would make a terrible first impression."

Dr. Candle laughed delightedly. "Never mind burning me," he said, taking my hand and shaking it. "But your courtesy is noted."

When he pulled his hand away, I saw the ironburn blaze and then fade on his skin. He saw me looking and offered a wry smile. "I'm not immune, but I do have a tolerance higher than many of my...kindred."

"That's the perfect answer to the first of about half of dozen really rude and personal questions I want to ask," I said. I was feeling off-balance with his accommodating and polite nature and did my best to recover. "So I suppose I'll start asking the rest of them. You're the real Dr. Candle? And the one who sent the invitation?"

"Yes on both counts," he said. He gestured to a pair of stools at a nearby workstation, silently offering me a seat. "I suppose a brief biography and my credentials would be helpful at a time like this?"

"They would."

Dr. Candle opened one of the cupboards, fetching a stovetop kettle and a jar of loose tea leaves. "Discussions like this always go best over tea," he said. "Can I offer you some?"

"If you're already making it for yourself, I wouldn't refuse," I replied carefully.

He chuckled. "I'd heard you were good at navigating Elsewhere," he said. "The tea is freely given. I take no part in the favortrade."

"No?" I asked. "Why not?"

The chemistry class had plenty of sinks and faucets, and Dr. Candle filled the kettle from one as he spoke. "I don't care for it," he said. "It brings me no joy, you might say. Tricking something away from someone, or making them desperate enough to trade something away, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I suppose I have my upbringing to thank for that."

He set the kettle on a hotplate and began gathering the loose leaf tea into little teabags. "My mother — or rather, the woman who became my mother — had a child some forty years back. No husband, scandalous for the time, and could only afford a tiny place on the edge of almost nowhere. That place was...thin. You understand my meaning?"

"An easy place for the Gentry to cross over, you mean?"

"Just so. So she and her baby moved into this place on the edges, and the Gentry took note. Her child was taken, and I was left in their place. And for four years she raised me as her own true child, unaware of the Changeling she took in."

The kettle gave a sharp whistle and Dr. Candle retrieved it quickly. A pair of mugs were produced from yet another cupboard, into which went the teabags and a measure of the boiling water. A subtle vanilla scent rose up from my cup as he handed it over. I took an experimental sip and found it delicious, but waited to add milk and sugar until Dr. Candle added them to his own cup.

"You know well enough that things from Elsewhere don't stay normal forever," he continued, between sips of his tea. "My true nature became clearer with each passing year. My mother wasn't a foolish woman, nor one unable to see magic when it was literally staring at her over the breakfast table. Her family had always told stories about the Fair Folk and she recognized those signs in me. Realizing her child had been stolen, she was determined to retrieve them from Elsewhere. I still have no idea how she managed to get the attention of her Good Neighbors, but when they finally took note she demanded the return of her trueborn child. They offered an exchange — me for them — but were surprised when she refused. I was, she claimed, as much her child as the one she'd birthed. She would have both, or neither, and she would gamble for the rights to us."

My mug was now empty of tea; Dr. Candle refilled it. "So what happened?" I asked.

"I would love to share the details of her encounter, but sadly she never would divulge them," Dr. Candle replied, refilling his own cup. "But when the sun set that day, she had two babies instead of one. By the time she made it back home, everyone who knew her remembered that she had two children and never batted an eye. I don't think she bargained for that. I think the Gentry just respected her skill enough that they gave her that as a boon. And though she now had another mouth to feed and body to clothe, I never heard her complain. She raised us as her slightly-odd twins and our life was blissfully happy."

I couldn't think of an elegant response, so I managed only a quiet "Wow."

"Amazing woman," he agreed. "Died about a decade back. Her early death would have been more of a tragedy if she hadn't managed to do so much before she died. When I was fifteen she married a man who thought she hung the moon. They traveled the world together and saw everything she'd ever dreamed of seeing as a young, poor, single mother. Gave generously to charity, did volunteer work, chaired a few foundations. Her funeral was full of people she'd helped. Even some of the Gentry came. My mother's husband established a scholarship in her name a few years ago — it sends about half a dozen single mothers to college each year. Not bad for a woman once pushed to the very fringes of society."

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. "I haven't heard many Gentry stories with happy endings," I told him.

"Mmm," he said, regarding me over the lip of his mug. "Who says it ended yet?"

I thought of my own Gentry deal, stretching out over endless years, and gave a wry smile. "Right," I said. "I forget about just how long their timelines run."

"Remembering gets easier with years," Dr. Candle said. "If nothing else, it's like being in close proximity to a tiger. You might reach an understanding with it, but you never forget it's there."

"So if you're aware of the tiger, how'd you end up at Elsewhere teaching Chemistry?" I asked.

"Ach, well, my sibling and I wanted to go to college. Elsewhere University had a good scholarship program, as you well know. So my sibling — Mx. Bell, in the Anthropology Department, have you met them? — started here as freshmen. We were a fine pair of outcasts. Bell came back from Underhill strange and it never quite went away. And me being what I am, well, it was no surprise most of the campus gave us a wide berth. The Gentry are fairly attuned to these sorts of things, so it was only a matter of time before they made a move. They took Bell our senior year."

I sucked in my breath before I remembered that he'd just said his sibling was a teacher at the school. "But you got them back?" I asked.

"I traveled to Underhill, yes. And I demanded my sibling back. The negotiation was...difficult. The Gentry agreed to let Bell go if I returned to them. Bell refused to leave without me. So we argued back and forth for a number of days before the Gentry finally agreed to let us both go, in their own fashion. Bell and I no longer exist at the same time, you see. We have to trade off days."

I blinked, certain I'd misunderstood. "You...what?"

Dr. Candle gave a sheepish shrug. "It's complicated. But while I exist in the world, Bell does not. When they exist, I don't. It's a bit like Jekyll and Hyde in two bodies, if they were both sleepy academics instead of a repressed Victorian and his savage alter ego."

"And how does that arrangement work out?"

"Fairly well, most of the time," he replied. "It took us a while to figure out the daily navigation. We have to be careful to schedule classes on different days, and we alternate Sundays. The hardest part is never actually getting to see my sibling anymore. We can't exist at the same time, so we have to rely on go-betweens and lots of notes to communicate. Email has helped quite a bit, believe it or not. But we've made our own sort of peace with the situation. Teaching here was just the next logical step, as how many other places could allow us to exist this way?"

He raised the kettle to offer another cup of tea, but I shook my head. "And the Chemistry?"

A wry smile crossed his face as he took both mugs away to rinse. "With all they've done is it any wonder I'd want to learn to hurt them?" His smile suddenly seemed less friendly, but I was relieved to see the moment pass quickly. "In all seriousness, the subject is fascinating to me. Ingredients harmless on their own become volatile when mixed. Dangerous substances become inert when blended. You can create a cloud of smoke that burns the lungs, or a pleasant reaction that makes an amusing show for children. I love its predictability and its potential for chaos. Chemistry was my favorite subject, so it only made sense to teach it."

He set the mugs on a drying mat and wiped his hands. "Not to mention that this building is the safest place on campus should the Gentry ever decide to invade. You remember the Chemistry War, yes? There's a reason this department was the only one that had a fighting chance in that situation." Dr. Candle lowered his voice and added, "Incidentally, should you ever find yourself in need of more serious protection than salt and iron, I have some experiments I'd love to try. Freely given, of course, as long as you take notes."

The idea of using weapons against the Good Neighbors was patently absurd and I couldn't help but smile. "Tell you what, when I'm crazy enough to march into Underhill and threaten the Gentry, I'll take you up on that offer," I said, with a little laugh. "Until then maybe I'll just keep my head down."

He returned my chuckle with one of his own. "So says the woman who bargained with the Wyrm."

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled to attention. "How did you know about that?" I asked.

"My dear Book, you think the staff aren't informed of the credentials of the new hires?" Dr. Candle smiled kindly. "A deal with the Wyrm and a patronage from the Lord of Moss and Shadow raises a few eyebrows even amongst the most seasoned staff. When your name was put forth it was with all the details of your time at Elsewhere. For someone who spent most of her time avoiding the Gentry at all costs, you made quite a splash when you decided to enter the metaphorical pool."

"Oh." I stared down at my hands, wondering why I felt uneasy. My deal with the Gentry was the reason I was employed at all — it wasn't like the school wouldn't know — and yet I didn't like the idea that the knowledge was public property. What if someone got it in their head to imitate my stunt? What was to keep the staff from telling the students? How long before I was a subject of gossip for the campus as a whole?

"I've made you uncomfortable," Dr. Candle said. "You must forgive me. I've forgotten that for you all of this is painfully recent. I meant only to express admiration for your tenacity, not treat you as a lab specimen."

"It's not your fault," I told him. "I just expected...."

"You expected your appointment to be unremarkable," Dr. Candle finished. "That you would be just another staff member at Elsewhere living out the conditions of your deal. I know."

For reasons I couldn't explain, I felt a lump rise in my throat. I nodded at him and managed to swallow back the feeling.

For his part, Dr. Candle didn't comment on my badly-hidden emotion. "And this seems a good a time as any to explain the Special Cases," he said. "After our deal, Bell and I were separated and felt the keen sting of loneliness in a way we hadn't known before. We had been each others' entire world, you see, and we felt the loss of it strongly. We moped for the first semester — I'm sure neither of us were good teachers at that point — before Bell hit on an idea. They left me a note on our dining room table. 'Candle,' it said, 'Surely there have to be others like us? Others with ties to the Gentry and unusual circumstances? Others who feel this same sadness?' And of course their idea was brilliant, so we started putting together plans for an exclusive society of those tied to the Gentry and Elsewhere. And then we started recruiting."

By now the lump in my throat had gone away and I was able to speak. "For what purpose?" I asked. 

"Companionship, mostly. There's no one who'll understand you like someone else who made a Gentry deal. Some of it was for practical reasons, of course. I daresay there's been one or two incidents prevented over the years because some of us have an ear and eye ready for Underhill news. Each of us — of which there are around a dozen — have connections to the Gentry and our own deals in place. We do what we can to protect the students of this University, and we pool our resources to protect each other from Gentry interference. And, of course, it's always nice to have friends."

"And you think I'd fit in?"

Dr. Candle's laugh was rich without being mocking. "You think you wouldn't?" he asked. "You faced down a Wyrm. You bargained with the Lord of Moss and Shadow. You wrote an exhaustive account of the Gentry. Frankly, I can think of very few members that are as qualified."

"In the interest of full disclosure," I said carefully, "I wasn't the one who did the negotiating with the Lord of Moss and Shadow."

The Chemistry professor nodded, face grim. "Yes, I'd heard," he said. "You let Between help you?"

"Yes."

He took his glasses off his nose and polished the non-glass. "In exchange for what?"

"A favor," I replied. "To be collected at a later date."

Dr. Candle continued to grimace. "Steep price, that," he said, replacing his glasses.

"He made me a good deal," I said, perhaps a touch defensively. "There aren't many who can say that."

"My problems with Between are not for his dealings," Dr. Candle countered. "By all accounts, he deals well and fairly. No, my concern is always what happens to those who owe him."

A familiar knot reworked itself in my stomach and I felt cold. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Candle seemed to notice my panic and smiled reassuringly. "I don't mean to say he does anything to them himself," he said quickly. "But Book, how much do you know about Between?"

I could only shake my head and shrug. Because of course I didn't know anything about him. He'd appeared out of the blue and offered to help me in exchange for a favor, and I'd gone along with it because I was hopelessly out of my depth. I'd never even heard his name on campus before he'd introduced himself to me, despite my seven years of Gentry-specific studies. The only things I really knew were that he negotiated deals and I owed him a favor.

Which, now that I thought about it, wasn't a hell of a lot to know about someone you bound yourself to with a promise.

The Chemistry teacher took my silence for the ignorance it was. "There's more rumor than confirmed fact," he said. "What we know is this: Between was a human student who made a number of ill-advised bargains that bound him to the Gentry for reasons we have yet to learn. He doesn't live anywhere on campus that we've been able to ascertain, and no one knows how he's summoned here. But when he does appear, it's always to talk to someone who is hopelessly out-of-depth in regards to the Gentry. He negotiates something brilliant that saves the student in the short-term, asking only for a favor. And within two years, the student disappears."

The effect of his words was like getting plugged into an electric socket; I straightened in my seat, certain I'd misheard him. "Come again?"

"Those who make deals with Between disappear," Dr. Candle repeated, face deadly-serious. "Whatever favor he asks of them, whatever thing he demands, it has caused the disappearance of at least seven students. And that's just the ones we've been able to confirm. Who knows what others made quiet deals out of the line of sight?"

"You think what? That the favor he called in caused the students to...?"

Dr. Candle shrugged helplessly. "Die? Remain with the Gentry? Leave campus suddenly and without a trace? Again, we don't know. But it happens within two years. Between calls in the favor, the student goes away."

To say that this was a worrying piece of information would be an understatement. Making a deal with Between might have been even stupider than making a deal with the Wyrm or with the Lord of Moss and Shadow.

"I don't say this to scare you," Dr. Candle said in a soothing voice. "I say this to recommend treating Between with caution. He has given you help and rendered a service, but he is not your friend. No matter how fair of face, kind of word, or courteous in manner, ultimately he serves the Good Neighbors. And anyone who holds their own against the Gentry is not one to take lightly."

I tried to keep my expression neutral to hide the nervousness thrashing in my belly. "From what it sounds like," I said slowly, "you and the rest of the Special Cases _also_ hold their own against the Gentry."

He bobbed his head in agreement. "True enough," he said. "And what you choose to do and who you associate with are your decisions. But I find I sleep better at night when I at least offer warnings."

Dr. Candle glanced up at the clock on his wall. "And with that note, I really should be heading to my office hours," he said, rising from his seat. "You'll excuse me?"

"Of course," I said, mirroring his movements. "The tea was delicious. And the conversation informative."

"It was a genuine pleasure to meet you," Dr. Candle said. His hands closed over mine in a friendly gesture. "You'll think about the Special Cases, I hope? I think you'd find the meetings stimulating."

I nodded. "I'll let you know."

"Lovely. I'll send further information to your staff residence once you're moved."

"Hopefully without denting my door next time."

He smiled and released my hands. The ironburn faded as quickly now as it did the first time. "I promise you, all your doors will be safe from me in the future. And I will let the Groundskeepers know about your door now."

We walked together to the classroom door. "Until we meet again, Book," he said, smiling warmly. "Try to stay out of trouble."

***

I had a lot to think about on my walk back to my little house. To join the Special Cases or not? To trust Between or not? To keep my head down and mouth shut or not? I had mistakenly thought that becoming a staff member at Elsewhere University was going to put a stop to all the unnecessary Gentry complications, but it seemed like I'd just managed to land myself deeper in the muck.

Two years. Was that how long I'd have before Between called in his favor, or would it be sooner? Would the Wyrm protect its interests by keeping me away from those who would keep me from bringing the books? Was Dr. Candle even telling me the truth, or was he giving me typical Gentry riddles? Nothing seemed to have a clear answer.

Despite the fact I had done next to nothing with my day, I was already exhausted. I was looking forward to kicking off my shoes and taking an afternoon nap. Maybe things would be clearer after a little sleep and a bit of distance.

That would have been too easy, of course. There was a note taped to my door when I finally got home. _Book,_ it read, _Knocked, but you didn't answer. Waited, but you don't seem to be home. I have details on your faculty housing to discuss. If you're free tonight, I'll be at the Root and Vine pub on campus at around eight. If you're not free, I'll try your door again tomorrow. Regards, Between._

Well. So much for distance.

End


	3. The Root and Vine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to be a meeting about her housing situation has somehow turned into an exchange of information. Book and Between talk stuff out over dinner and drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of new updates. I started a new job recently and am still getting my writing schedule down.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

### 

**The Root and Vine**

The thing about the Root and Vine was that it was _old_. Made of rough-hewn stone and sporting an actual thatched roof, it looked like something you'd see at a Ren Faire instead of on a college campus. Rumors about its creation varied. Some said it had only appeared after the college merged with the fairy hill. Others said it was built long before the college and through a series of purchases and building expansions, finally became an official part of the school. Some even insisted that the building was no older than anything else on campus, and had instead been designed to look ancient due to the quirks of its designer. 

Whatever the reality of it was, there was no denying that the building felt like the most ancient place on campus. And I say that as someone who entered the Lost Court where the Wyrm lived. There was just an aura about the Root and Vine, a sense that it was immovable as the stone it was made of, that called to mind ancient hills unspoiled by humankind. Unlike other buildings, it resisted the flow of time and stubbornly remained itself.

Maybe it was that resistance that made EU decide to keep the building as a staff-only location. The Root and Vine was situated close to faculty housing, an easy stroll for a professor looking for a drink or a meal. Though the occasional student tried to bluff their way in, the staff always seemed to know who belonged and who didn't. Whether this was magic, or just common sense, I couldn't be sure. But the fact was that this building was very, very good at repelling those who weren't supposed to be there.

Which is as good a reason as any for why I was seated inside at seven forty-five, looking for someone who was best described as "trouble."

Inside, the building was home to more rough stone, now coupled with a highly-polished reddish wood for the beams, bar, and tables. Each breath I drew in brought the scent of leather, earth, and long-ago tobacco smoke. Though it was empty save for three people seated at a table in the corner, I would have sworn I could hear the sounds of glasses clinking, drunken laughter, and heavy footsteps. It put me in mind of of a century-old English pub that had somehow sprouted and put down deep roots in a faraway place.

Not that there weren't plenty of signs that this was definitely an EU kind of place, of course. The chandeliers overheard were made of a pure-white antler that glowed without candles or bulbs. Several of the support beams had eyes with slitted pupils carved into them. There was a distinct lack of mirrors behind the bar. Half of the tables had extra salt shakers on them. Finally, beneath my feet, whole sections of the floor were made up of iron tiles. I'd never seen anything so carefully constructed as a sort of between-place for the Gentry and the humans on campus.

The bartender/hostess, a gorgeous woman who was quick with a wink and a smile, took payment for my food and drinks upfront, which I appreciated. I could call her Taps, she told me, and she was pleased to make my acquaintance. As she ran through a list of house specials, I had ample time to internally debate whether she was Gentry or human. Her golden-brown skin didn't have so much as an acne scar to speak of, and her short, spiky hair was styled flawlessly. When she smiled, I was so transfixed by her white, even teeth that I didn't notice her eyes until later; one was olive green, while the other was a deep brown. By the time she stopped speaking, I was fairly sure the answer was that she was human, but I wasn't going to risk offending her by asking.

(At least, not then. In the months that followed, Taps and I would have several deep conversations, a couple of shared drinks, and one big adventure that took four days and an entire coven's worth of witches to solve. But that's a story for another day.)

When I asked for food recommendations, she stated simply that everything on the menu was good. "Can't go wrong with the burger and fries, though," she said. "Made in-house."

"I'll do that, then."

"And your drink?"

"I'll hold off on that until later," I said. "I'm waiting on someone."

"Might I ask who?" Taps asked. "If it's a regular, maybe I can give you an arrival time."

There was something a little too curious in her tone and face. Whether that was because she was the bartender and liked to keep herself in the know, or whether it was because I was new to the Root and Vine, I wasn't sure. But I got the sense that I needed to tread carefully in this situation if I wanted to avoid an incident.

I watched her closely as I said, "I know him as Between."

For the briefest moment, the bartender's smile wavered. It was back a second later. "Ah," she said. "Him. He's not what you'd call a regular."

I couldn't help chuckling. "Nicely understated. Anyway, he said he'd be coming here tonight. We have a meeting."

Still smiling, Taps dropped her voice. "You in trouble with him?" she asked. "I can't do much, but I can lay down a couple of protections real quick if you need to make a hasty exit."

"Kind, but unnecessary," I told her. "I made a deal with him, and I don't think it's the sort of thing you can protect me from."

Her nose wrinkled in amusement. "You've got that right. I'm not stupid enough to fuck with the deals of Gentry reps. I'll give you a discount on the drinks, though. Out of sympathy."

The laugh broke out of my throat before I could stop it. "Well, now I know exactly how bad a situation I'm in," I said. "Anything you can tell me?"

Her eyes flicked away from me and towards the door. "Just that your date's here," she said. "Maybe we can talk about it more when you don't have other plans."

Between was at her elbow almost as soon as Taps finished speaking. "Taps," he said respectfully.

"Between," she replied, just as formally. "The usual for you?"

"If you would."

"Can do. Back in a flash."

Between watched her go before turning his attention to me. "Good evening, Book," he said. "May I sit with you?"

I gestured to the chair across from me. "Be my guest."

He looked as perfect now as he had the first time we'd met. He was wearing tailored clothes in dark colors, and his hair was impeccably styled. The Sight granted to me by my deal with the Lord of Moss and Shadow revealed a bit of silver haze surrounding Between, but I still had no idea if that was a byproduct of his own dealings with the Gentry. Dr. Candle's warnings came back full-bore, and I remembered that I needed to be wary in my interactions.

"So, Dr. Candle says you're dangerous and most people you make deals with disappear in two years. True?"

Maybe someday I'll figure out the meaning of the word "wary."

Between was in the process of taking off his jacket when I sprang the question on him. He froze when my words landed. "Well," he said. "You just came out and asked."

"If my time's limited, I'd rather not waste it beating around the bush," I replied. "Tell me the truth."

"The truth is...complicated." Between finished removing his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. "And expensive."

"Expensive?"

"Mm-hmm." He took a seat and folded his hands in front of him. "I can't give information for free. I'm bound by a set of rules, you understand. If you want answers to your questions, you have to offer up something of equal value."

"Such as...?"

"Why, answers in turn," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "For every personal question you ask me, I get to ask you one in response. I'll even tell you what question I'll ask you before I give you my answer, just so you'll know the true cost. But if you want anything beyond a surface level conversation tonight, or more than just the straightforward discussion about your new housing, that's the way it has to be."

As I considered Between's words, Taps returned to our table with plates of food. In front of each of us, she set down a burger and fries. Between was also given a tall glass of golden liquid that made Taps purse her lips when she set it down. The moment her fingers left the glass, she wiped them on her apron furiously. If Between noticed her reaction, he didn't mention it.

"You decide on that drink?" Taps asked me.

"Rum and Coke," I told her.

"You got it." She shot me a worried glance as she walked back to the bar. I tried not to let it get to me.

I took a few bites of my food in an attempt to make things feel normal. It was, as Taps said it would be, delicious. The burger was cooked to perfection, and the fries were the ideal balance of crispy and soft. Across from me, Between was also taking the opportunity to eat. Whatever he'd done in his day, he'd clearly worked up as much of an appetite as I had. I watched as he lifted his golden-hued beverage to his lips and took a sip; he grimaced slightly afterwards, and set it down with a look of profound disappointment.

I eyed Between's drink when it was back on the table. "What's that?" I asked. "Or does that count as a personal question?"

He laughed. "Not yet," he said. "It's mead. It's the only alcohol I'm allowed to drink anymore. And if you ask why, _that's_ getting into personal question territory. You sure you want to go down that road?"

Taps returned with my drink, but chose to drop it off rather than stay for another conversation. Maybe she saw the danger I was dancing towards, or maybe she didn't want to spend any more time with Between than she had to. But I knew I was out of time to avoid making a decision.

The familiar lump of nervousness found its way to my throat. I swallowed it back. "The terms are fair," I said, raising my drink in Between's direction. "Question for question, answer for answer."

He clinked his glass against mine, sealing the bargain. "Then ask away," he said. "But ask carefully."

"Let's start with the easy one, then," I said. "Why can't you drink alcohol other than mead?"

Between looked at me thoughtfully. "Price of that one is 'When did you have your first taste of alcohol?'"

"That's what I have to answer if I want to know yours?"

"Yes."

"I accept, then."

"One of the many things I've traded over the years is my ability to drink various alcohols," Between said. "I bargained away all the others, and the only thing I have left is mead. So when I want a drink, that's what I have to settle for. Your answer?"

The switch between his reply and his question was quick enough that I blinked. "Oh. Uh...seventeen. No, I'm wrong. Sixteen. My aunt let me have a sip of her white wine on my sixteenth birthday. I didn't like it much."

Between smiled and took a drink of his mead. "And that's how it works," he said. "We swap answers until the price is too high."

"And you'll answer anything as long as I'm willing to pay for it?"

"That's the deal," he said. "Ask me anything."

I wished I'd taken more time to consider exactly what it was I wanted to know. I had plenty of questions: Was I going to go missing? Why did he help me bargain with the Gentry? Why did everyone say he was dangerous? Too many thoughts competed for attention in my brain and I struggled to focus on just one.

I wasn't sure what question I was going to ask until it leapt out of my mouth. "How did you end up working for the Gentry?"

Between's eyebrows climbed high on his forehead. "That's a steep one," he warned. "Why did you come to Elsewhere University?"

I frowned. His question didn't seem as expensive as he made it sound. There was a trap in this somewhere, but I couldn't see it. "All right," I said. "I accept the price."

He sighed and stared into his mead, searching for words. "It was a last-ditch attempt to remain on campus beyond my graduation," he said slowly. "I'd bargained off all the little things I could. The only thing I had left to sell were my services, and one of the Gentry took me up on the offer. I work for the Gentry because it's the only way to guarantee I can stay here. Now, tell me why you came to Elsewhere."

"Because this is where I was accepted."

Without warning, my tongue began to burn like I'd poured hot salsa over it. I gasped and reached for my rum and Coke before I remembered that alcohol would only make a burn worse. Wordlessly, Between pointed to a glass of water and then watched as I gulped it down gratefully. The fire in my mouth wasn't completely out, but at least the edge had been taken off.

"You have to give the complete truth for the burning to stop," Between said gently. "Keep going."

I licked my lips nervously. "Promise not to laugh."

"Easily done. I won't laugh."

"I came to Elsewhere because I wanted to see magic." The heat on my tongue lessened, but I knew the bargain needed more before it would let me go. "Ever since I was a kid I wanted to see real magic. After talking with my aunt, I knew this was my best chance. So I decided to come here to see if there was anything magical to see."

Immediately, the pain in my mouth dissipated. I took another swallow of water and shuddered. "God, that was awful," I told Between. "A warning would have been nice."

"I'd forgotten," Between confessed. "It's been a long time since anyone has asked me personal questions. We can stop if you want."

"No way," I said, now taking a drink of my rum and Coke to steel myself. "There's more I want to know. Tell me why you wanted to stay on campus after you graduated."

Between sucked in his breath so sharply it sounded like he'd been punched. "Book, that is not a safe road to go down."

I leaned forward, careful to look him straight in the face, and asked, "And what good has being safe done me since I've been on this campus?"

"Book—"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do here, Between," I broke in. "But all of my attempts at safety have done jack shit for me so far. Avoiding the Gentry got their attention. Bargaining with the Wyrm got me my thesis. Facing the Lord of Moss and Shadow got me a job. If sticking around tonight and talking is going to get me answers and throw me headfirst into danger, then I'm staying. I'm tired of playing it safe just for it to blow up in my face. If I owe you a favor, I need to know something about who I owe."

"Are you sure?" Between's face was deadly serious now. "I can't give you another chance to get out."

I was in too deep to turn back now. "Tell me the price for my question," I told him.

He stared at me for a long minute and then sighed. "Why have you spent so much time avoiding magic if you came here to see it?"

"I accept. Answer the question."

Between drained the rest of his mead and gestured to Taps for another. "My father died before I was born," he said, studying the bottom of his glass. "I don't remember my mother. She left us — my sister and I — with relatives before we turned two. We never seemed to stay in one place very long, my sister and me. I think our longest stay with one family was about four years. But we made the best of it. We were all we had, you know? Her and me against the world."

Taps arrived with the second glass of mead. As she picked up the empty glass, she asked me, "Want another for you?"

I nodded. "Appreciate it."

Between waited for Taps to disappear again before continuing. "When we got scholarships to Elsewhere University, it seemed like a dream-come-true," he said. "We wouldn't have been able to attend college otherwise. So we moved into the dorms, took classes, made friends, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. We made sure to follow all the Elsewhere rules — salt and iron and all that. You'd be amazed at how normal we were and how little attention we attracted at first."

"I can't imagine you not attracting attention."

He gave me a rueful smile. "Yes, well, that's the problem, isn't it? Eventually we got noticed."

Once again Taps arrived at the table, and once again Between stopped speaking. When she dropped off my drink, he resumed his story. "The Gentry took a particular shine to my sister," he said. "One night they took more than notice. They took _her._ Didn't leave a Changeling in her place, so there was no indication she'd be given back. The Knights couldn't track her. Witches couldn't magic her back. The school wouldn't even admit she was missing. I stayed calm for about a week, then I started bargaining."

A slow cloud of dread was building at the table and I took a drink to stave it off. The burn of the booze in my throat helped ground me a little.

"It was little things, at first," Between said. "I traded pieces of myself for news about her. The ability to whistle after six at night bought me a hint. One of my notebooks bought me half a nickname. And so on. I've made so many deals that I can't even remember them all. Eventually my bargains brought me to Elsewhere itself. I saw my sister, and the Gentry that had her. And I tried to bargain for her freedom."

He pressed his lips together so tightly that the edges went white. I half-expected the glass of mead to shatter in his hand. "The Gentry laughed," he said, after some silence. "'She is too valuable,' they said, 'to give her away. We will not give her back.' And I found myself back on campus without her. And I knew that the only way I was going to get her back was to throw all caution to the wind and do the things that truly desperate people do. I had to gamble.

"My deals became more extravagant after that," he said. "Bigger things. Better favors. My friends tried to get me to stop, but I couldn't. Wouldn't. She was the only constant in my world. How could I leave her? I kept researching and studying. I devoured anything having to do with the Gentry. Soon I was the one who others came to for loopholes and help making deals. I was _good_ at making deals. I was so good at it that even the Gentry had to notice."

I found that I was holding my breath, so I released it. "And then?" I asked, unable to help myself.

"I'd bargained away everything but my ability to bargain," he said. "So I found my way back to Elsewhere. During all this I'd had to keep up my studies — there was a brief lapse where I was on academic probation and they threatened to kick me out — and I knew I'd be graduating soon. I refused to leave without my sister. I went to the one who kept her and said that I would offer my skills if they would release her. They refused. I offered to take her place. They refused. I knew that nothing I offered would release her, so I amended my offer. I said I would work for them if I could stay on campus and see my sister. The Gentry and I argued back and forth until dawn, and eventually we struck a bargain. And here I am."

His silver eyes lifted from his glass to focus on me. "In short, I work for the Gentry because it's the only way I can think of to stall while I try to get her back. Now your turn."

I had been so enraptured by his story that I'd forgotten what I was supposed to answer. "I...I'm going to need you to repeat your question," I said.

"If you came to Elsewhere to see magic, why did you spend so long avoiding it?"

Now it was my turn to consider the contents of my glass. "I don't know that I've ever really sat and thought about it," I said. "This is going to come out kind of a jumbled mess, I think."

"I'm good with jumbled messes," Between said softly. "Try me."

I swirled my drink absently. "I wanted the kind of magic you see in fairy tales," I said slowly. "You get a quest or a call to adventure, maybe a talking animal or two, and at the end the hero gets a reward and the villain gets punished. I used to write stories and send them to my aunt, and I'd tell her about the magic kingdom I'd want to rule."

Between's mouth quirked up in a smile that he was trying nobly to fight. "Oh, really?" he asked.

"Don't you laugh!" I warned. "I didn't know anything then. It's not my fault I wrote about thrones made out of flowers and a crown made of a precious jewels and a court full of people who adored me. I didn't know about the real stuff."

"I wasn't laughing," Between said. "Honestly, I wasn't."

I wasn't sure I believed him, but I decided not to pursue a fight. "Anyway," I said, "I wanted to see magic like I'd read about all my life. But when I got accepted here, my aunt couldn't stop telling me horror stories about what happens on campus. Deals that go wrong. Deals that went too right. Kidnappings. Deaths. Tricks. It was like...it was like I'd been excited to unwrap this brand new toy and someone immediately told me all the ways it was going to kill me. It made me scared instead of excited. So when I got here, with all my aunt's stories in my head, I decided I wasn't going to be one of the cautionary tales she told someone else. I loaded myself up with all the protections I could and didn't interact with the Gentry. And, of course, the longer I was here, the more I saw just how badly the Gentry could hurt people and I was even more determined to avoid them. So to answer your question, I've been avoiding the magic I wanted to see because people made me scared."

"And yet," Between said, openly smiling now, "you walked into the Wyrm's den and demanded your book back."

"Yeah, well, I don't have a good explanation for that one other than spite."

He laughed, and my stomach dipped a little as I realized I liked the sound. "Spite I understand," he said. "And if I may say so, while your stunt was absolutely idiotic, it was quite possibly the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Backhanded compliments are always appreciated."

"I'd offer you complete ones, but I'm terribly out of practice with flirting."

"Mmm. And I don't suppose this attempt at flirting is to get me to forget about questions I still want answered?"

"Brave _and_ smart," Between said, grinning as he took a drink. "All I need to do is call you beautiful and I'll have done the hat trick."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him at least a little charming. Part of the reason was genuinely that he was a good-looking man roughly my own age who paid attention to what I was saying. Most of the reason was that I hadn't been on a date in roughly five years and any sort of positive attention felt good. And a very, very small part of the reason was that I had finished one of my drinks and was working on the second, and the booze made me feel warm and happy. Maybe I shouldn't have done the drinks with dinner, but there was nothing to be done for it now that I'd had them. All I could do now was keep what was left of my wits about me.

I straightened a bit in my chair. "New question. Do all the people you make deals with disappear?"

"New cost. Do you have any friends anymore?"

"Ouch. Cost accepted. Spill."

"Not all," Between replied. "I make deals with desperate people and I collect on those debts. Lots of those people go missing. Others leave campus forever. Some try to run and escape the price. There have been times I've been outsmarted, outnegotiated, and outmaneuvered. Sometimes I have to concede defeat, or accept that a debt has been paid. But the debts all get paid, one way or another. Your go."

"I don't think I do," I said. "Everyone I spent undergrad with has moved on. And grad school didn't offer a lot of opportunities to make friends. Hell, you might be the closest thing I have to a friend at the moment."

Between flinched and looked guilty, though I wasn't sure why considering that I'd made the comment and not him. He lifted his glass towards me with a resigned sigh. "To burgeoning friendships, then," he said, offering his glass for a toast.

"To _potential_ burgeoning friendships," I amended.

"Fair enough," he said, tapping his glass against mine. "So, potential friend, anything else you want to ask before we get to the nitty-gritty of your housing details?"

"Lots," I said. "But am I right in saying that this sort of thing, the question for question bit, can happen any time?"

"It can."

"Then maybe I'll stick with one last question for now," I said. "Which Gentry took your sister?"

I'd never seen a smile leave a human face as quickly as it left Between. There was no teasing, no hint of laughter in his face as he asked, "What's your real name?"

Now it was my turn to stop smiling. The world felt like it narrowed down to a single point as the full weight of his response hit me. "That's the cost of that one?" I asked. "My name?"

Wordlessly, he nodded. He seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes as he added, "Do you accept the price?"

"No," I said with a firm shake of my head. "Too steep."

His eyes closed and he let out an audible sigh of relief. When his eyes opened again, his smile had returned. "So," he said. "Should we take that as a natural stopping point in the questions exchange?"

"My enthusiasm for it has dulled remarkably," I said dryly.

Between laughed. "Then, to more interesting matters," he said, retrieving an envelope from his coat pocket. "Housing! Your residence is ready as of tomorrow morning. Keys and paperwork and all that are in the envelope, and you can read it at your leisure. One copy needs to go to Records, but you don't have to put your real name on anything this time. House is fully-furnished, yours as long as you teach here, and utilities and garbage are deducted from your paycheck each month. The paperwork goes into all the details, and has contact info for the Staff Housing Department in case you have more questions."

He slid the envelope over to me. It was a comfortable weight in my hand. "So I can see it tomorrow?" I asked.

"I could escort you there in the morning, if you like," he said. "I'd like to see your face when you see it."

"That's appropriately ominous," I said.

"Wasn't meant to be. I just think you'll be pleased and I'd rather like to see you smile."

"Oh, are we going back to flirting?" I asked.

He smiled in a way that made me go a little — only a little! — fluttery in the stomach. "As much as I'd love to," he said, "it is getting rather late and I think we've both had full days. Let me walk you home?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, but he looked back at me with perfect, probably feigned, innocence. "I can manage the walk tonight myself," I told him. "But I will take you up on your offer to take me to my new place tomorrow."

"Wonderful. Shall we say nine?"

"God, no. I'll still be sleeping. Ten-thirty is as early as I'll meet up."

"I'll file that away for future reference. Ten-thirty, then."

"Great. I guess I'll see you in the morning."

Between stood when I did. He turned towards the bar and gave a friendly wave to Taps. "My compliments to the cook," he called to her.

For her part, she nodded back, but remained a safe distance from the table. "You've got change coming," she called to me.

"Keep it," I said. "For your tip. Freely given."

"Gratefully accepted," she replied. "Come by anytime."

Together, Between and I left the Root and Vine. The summer air was warm and inviting, and if I'd been anywhere other than a Gentry-dominated college campus, I would have loved to go for a walk in the night. But I knew better than to tempt fate when I was a little bit tipsy, so those paths would remain unwalked by me.

"I suppose I may as well bid you goodnight now," Between said, pulling me from my Reverie. "Unless you've changed your mind about the walk home in the last twenty feet?"

"Maybe another night," I answered.

"Then I will live in hope," he said, with a little flourishing bow. "Goodnight, Book."

"Goodnight, Between."

He took a few steps down the walkway, then paused and turned back to me. "If you'll indulge me," he said, "I have a question for you before I go."

"I suppose...."

"What's the moment, so far, that you've been happiest on campus?"

I considered carefully. "Tell me why you and your sister attracted the Gentry's attention, and I'll tell you."

"Done."

I considered, then smiled as a memory came to me almost immediately. "When I was a junior," I said, "my dorm was housing a Changeling. The weren't malicious, or spiteful, or cruel. They just wanted to go to school and live life like a human for a while. And one night, after almost everyone was asleep, the Changeling did some spell or trick that made it look like the hallways were full of stars. I'd been coming back from the library and never would have seen it otherwise. Stars, no bigger than my fingernails, hovering nearby. Whole galaxies swirling at my elbows. Little comets streaking from one door to another. It was the only thing on campus I'd seen that looked the way I imagined magic looking, and I just stood there smiling at all of it. The Changeling was in the middle of it, laughing and creating all of this, and saw me. They made a little crown of stars and floated it towards me, and said, 'Freely given, though she wraps herself in starstuff, to the one who delights in the light in dark places.'"

Between smiled. "And how long did that crown last?"

"Oh, it was gone by morning," I said. "But it was so beautiful while it lasted. To my knowledge, the Changeling never made stars in the hallways again. And I was very sad to see them go at the end of the semester. I hope they got what they wanted out of their time at school."

Between nodded, then grew serious. "As to your question," he said, "my sister and I were music majors. She was a singer and a dancer. I was gifted in composition. We used to create musical pieces together and then perform them for school events. It was fine at first, but you know how much the Gentry love musicians. She used to like to practice her singing in the bathrooms because the acoustics were nice. It was really only a matter of time before one of them overheard her. Her singing was...ethereal, I suppose you could say. I've never heard anyone sing the way she could. When she danced, it was like she _flowed_ instead of stepped. I was good at composing and playing, but she was so far beyond me that it's no wonder they wanted her. I'd hoped that when she was stolen, it would only be temporary, but...well, here we are."

"You didn't tell me what instrument you played," I said.

"A little of everything," he replied. "But stringed instruments like piano, harp, and violin were Betwixt's favorites to dance to."

"I would have liked to see you both perform."

"You may yet get the chance. The Gentry trot us out for the occasional gathering. It's the only time I get to play anymore. I bargained away all the musical talent I had, aside from during special Gentry events."

He flinched and put a hand to his throat. It might have been a trick of the light, but I would have sworn I saw red marks flash across his neck. "That was careless of me," he muttered in a hoarse voice. "Too much information for free."

Feeling guilty for my part in his discomfort, I said, "I'm the only one in my family, other than my aunt, who can't play an instrument. No talent for it at all. My dad used to say listening to me practice piano was like listening to twelve scared cats running across the keys. To spare everyone the horror of listening to me, I don't even try."

Slowly, Between lowered his hand from his throat. The marks, if they'd ever been there, had disappeared. "That was kind of you, to offer extra knowledge to offset my slip," he said. "But we should be careful not to make it a habit."

"Agreed."

"Then I will take the opportunity to go before I do something else incredibly stupid," he said. "Goodnight, Book."

"Goodnight again, Between."

With another smile and a wave, Between set off down the path.

I watched him disappear into the darkness, wondering where he went at night. I needed time to digest the pieces of information I'd learned about him in the course of the evening. I certainly knew more about him now than I had earlier, and I didn't doubt that there was more I'd learn about him in the days to come. But behind all my satisfaction was the gentle voice of Dr. Candle warning me that Between was dangerous and was not my friend. He was, after all, still mostly a stranger.

But those were problems that could wait for daylight. For now, I needed to get home, drink some water, and get some sleep. With everything else going on, the last thing I wanted was a hangover.

 _And tomorrow,_ I thought, _I go to see my new house._

END 


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